


Kastle: A Collection of One Shots

by indeepship



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indeepship/pseuds/indeepship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From (re-)interpretations of scenes in Marvel's Daredevil to alternate universes and exploratory post-season worlds.  A collection of Kastle one shots for the Kastle shipper's soul.</p>
<p>Updated weekly (in an ideal world).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Originally published on indeepship.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Believing Again

**“Whatever good you saw, whatever code of honour that you understood, it was never there.” - Mitchell Ellison**

* * *

 

 

Which is why a sob almost escapes her as Frank walks into view, framed in the open doorway.  Almost. 

Karen raises her gun.  Frank mirrors her, slowly raising his hands in front of him, palms facing her.  She has the gun trained on him as he nudges the door open wider and steps into her apartment, all the while making gentle shushing noises.  She wonders if he’s genuinely trying to soothe her nerves or lure her into a false sense of security before he takes her out.  Either way, she’s not going down without a fight.  

Karen wills herself to remember the bloodied, bruised and battered bodies that this man has left in his wake.  She reminds herself of Foggy’s wounded shoulder, Reyes lying motionless on her own desk, the bloodstained sheet covering Tepper’s body, of the X-Ray of a skull slipped into a little girl’s backpack.  These thoughts give her the courage to speak. 

“Hands on your head, Frank.” 

She cocks the gun, to show she’s all business.  “I mean it.”  

“It wasn’t me.” 

God, she wants to believe him.  She really does.  After all that he’s said, after everything that he’s shared with her.  He’d showed her the hurt, the vulnerability in him.  She doesn’t want it all to be just lies.   _  
_

_Whatever good… whatever code of honour… never there._

Ellison’s words jerk her back to reality.  “Hands on your head or I will unload this thing, I swear to Christ!” 

But Frank, he’s grounded, steady where she’s a bundle of jittery nerves.  Who would anyone trust in this situation?  The calm man with his hands in the air or the crazy woman with the gun?  

“It wasn’t me.”

Something, a tiny voice deep inside her is saying _I knew it, it couldn’t have been him_ , but Karen quells it quickly.  Because if Ellison is right and she’s projecting, then she can’t believe anything she thinks or feels about Frank Castle.  It’s the strangest, most horrible sensation in the world for her not to be able to trust herself.  She doesn’t know what to do, but the safest thing right now is to keep Frank Castle at the other end of her gun. 

“Do it,” she jerks the gun, motioning to his head.

“Okay,” Frank says, “okay.”  He starts to move his hands to his head, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers.  It’s then that she sees it.  That hint of sadness.  It’s almost as if he’s disappointed that despite his denial, she doesn’t trust him.  It tears her up inside, to see him looking at her like that.  When she’s been the one standing up for him, fighting for him.  When all she wants is answers, the truth.  But she cannot be lied to anymore, not by him, and especially not by herself.  

In that moment, Karen Page wishes for divine intervention, to be shown the way.

“Hey.”  Frank’s looking at her, and she can feel him peeling back the layers of her bravado and seeing her torment.

But Karen will never know what he was going to say, because all hell breaks loose.

There’s a shatter of glass from behind her.  Before she can react, before she can do anything at all, the gun is knocked from her hands and Frank is barreling into her.  Then there’s a whizz of bullets overhead, so thick that Karen can feel the walls of her apartment shudder under the assault.  She hears the crack and split of plaster giving way, the chink and thud of photo frames being hit.  

But she’s safe.  Safe from it all.  Because Frank Castle is there with her. 

He’s lying on top of her, his weight a solid reassurance.  Both his hands are pressed against her head.  Karen clutches his arm and buries her face into the crook of his elbow.  He smells like gunpowder and soap.  

It is there, lying on her apartment floor with bullets flying in the air, that she doubts no longer.  Frank had told her the truth, but she’d wavered under the judgement of others.  

Ellison was wrong.  There was a hell lot of good in Frank Castle.  It had always been there. 

When the gunfire stops, all Karen can do is swear.  

Frank is still on top of her.  “You believe me now?” he says, his warm breath in her ear.

“I believe you.”

_I believe you._


	2. Video night

“Hello?”

On screen, the door is opened by an elderly man carrying a flashlight. He gives a cursory sweep of his surroundings, searching for the source of the disturbance. When Frank suddenly pops his head out from behind the door, the man’s flashlight briefly illuminates the quizzical look on Frank’s bruised face before the man drops it in surprise.

“Who the hell are you?”

Karen covers her mouth with one hand, half laughing at the tone the man’s taken with the Punisher, but also half afraid for him.

She watches as the man stares suspiciously at Frank, who has bent down to pick up the flashlight but doesn't offer it back to the man. Instead, the man has to snatch it from Frank’s hand.

There’s a pause as on-screen Frank purses his lips to think. Then,

“Frank.”

He accompanies his answer with a smile so charming that Karen wants to jump up and pause the video so she can stare at that face forever. It’s a smile that’s cocky and sheepish all at the same time, as if Frank is amused at his own decision to use his real name in a situation where anyone else would have done otherwise, and apologetic that he cannot pretend to be anyone other than the man he is.

“Frank!” she echoes him incredulously, shaking her head.

“Always tell the truth, don’t I?” Frank glances sideways at her. She turns to him and holds his gaze until it is he who has to look away first.

On screen, the man continues his interrogation. “What are you doing up here, Frank?”

“Well, the truth is, um, I’m pretty sure that this here roof, right here, this is the, uh, this is the last patch of real estate in the entire goddamn United States where a man can just have a little peace, be by himself, and have a smoke.”

Karen, a tiny smile on her face, snorts softly. But Frank catches the sound and grins to himself. He’s actually pretty proud of that line. 

On screen, the man is still unconvinced. “Never seen you around.”

“Yeah, no. I’m uh, I’m in town just visiting my crazy sister,” declares on-screen Frank.

“Betty in 2B?” Suddenly the man’s hostility is gone, and he’s now empathetic, almost conspiratorial.

“How’d you know to say that?” Karen whispers, turning to Frank. As she does so, a bit of blond hair falls across her face and it’s all he can do to stop himself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. 

Instead, he explains to her the simple technique of exploiting the human cognitive bias; he’s merely helped the man jump to conclusions without sufficient information. Karen listens as he explains. The light from the TV casts a flickering glow over her face, and Frank can see that she’s hanging on to every word he says. It feels nice, to be listened to like that. 

“Can’t say I blame you.”

“Nah.”

“My wife’s the same. Made me quit a long time ago.”

On screen, Frank and the man are bonding over the shared misery that is women, but here and now in this apartment, Karen’s giving him that look. She’s biting her lower lip lightly and her brows are slightly furrowed, and when Frank sees her give him this look, he always, always feels that at any moment she could just leap off the sofa and fly into his head, all ghost-like and intangible. It is hands down by far the weirdest thought he’s ever had.

“What about the enjoyment of life?”

“Guess they’ll worry about that when they’re dead.”

 

Later, he notices how she gets real quiet, stiffens next to him when on-screen Frank thumbs back the hammer on his gun and holds it up to the man through the door. He leans over, whispers to her that it was just for show, a little warning for Red, he wasn’t gonna plug the old vet. 

True to his word, the old man starts heading down the stairs, still in one piece.

“Hey, Marine!”

“Yeah?”

“ _Semper Fi_.”

He stands, reaches for the remote, turns the screen off.

“That’s it?” Karen asks, “We aren’t going to finish watching?”

But Frank knows what comes next, and he doesn’t want her to see it. Grotto, Dogs of Hell, Red… No, she shouldn’t have to see it. 

“Yeah,” he says, “that’s it.”

“So what now?” Karen asks.

Frank Castle smiles. 

She looks up at him, standing in front of the TV, in a grey sweater, his dark hair slightly ruffled, and Karen realizes with a start that this is a sight she could get used to seeing.

“Got something else in mind, you up for it?”

Frank holds out his hand to Karen.

He waits for her to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you still confused, Frank and Karen are watching that scene from Season 2 Episode 3 where the old Marine interrupts the Punisher and Daredevil’s intimate little tête-à-tête on the roof.


	3. A (Frickin') Cold Day In Hell's Kitchen, A Play in 3 Parts

**PART ONE: THE DISCOVERY**

[Scene: Karen’s apartment]

Enter FRANK in full Punisher gear.

FRANK: You wouldn’t believe what I just spray-painted on my new Kevl - what the shit.

FRANK notices that the apartment is empty. He sees the katana marks on the wall.

Enter DAREDEVIL, breaking through the window. He’s panting and out of breath.

FRANK: What the hell! You just busted up her apartment, man. Use the door, would you?

DAREDEVIL: No time. They’ve got her.

FRANK: Who’s got her?

DAREDEVIL: The Hand. They’re trying to lure me in. I’ve got to save her.

FRANK: Not if I get there first.

Exit FRANK, through the door. 

Exit DAREDEVIL, through the busted window.

 

[Scene: Rooftop]

DAREDEVIL is perched at the edge, trying to hone in on the city’s sounds to find Karen and the other hostages.

DAREDEVIL: Come on. Come on. AW, COME ON!

Enter ELEKTRA with a calming air.

ELEKTRA: Slow your breath. Focus. Now try again.

He tries again, but fails.

DAREDEVIL: UGH! I can’t hear, HEAR ANYTHING!! The electricity in this building is too LOUD!

ELEKTRA: Okay but can you not be such a diva about it?

 

[Scene: Unmarked van]

FRANK: You’re a shining star… no matter who you are… la la la…

FRANK turns a dial on his NYPD mobile communications rig.

VOICE: 10-13 officer down! 36th and 7th!

FRANK: Gotcha.

 

**PART TWO: THE FIGHTING**

[Scene: The abandoned factory on 36th and 7th]

Enter FRANK, guns ablazing.

BANG! 

POW!

WHAM! 

BANG! 

CRACK! 

WHOOSH! 

BANG!! 

 

**PART THREE: THE RESCUE**

[Scene: Room where Karen and the hostages are kept]

Enter FRANK, who fires his semiautomatic into the ceiling.

FRANK: EVERYBODY OUT!

The hostages scream and run for the door. FRANK moves to KAREN.

KAREN: Frank.

FRANK: It’s okay. You’re safe now, Ma’am. I -

KAREN: Can you not call me Ma’am, it makes me feel old.

FRANK: But… I do it as a sign of respect, you know. Plus, our shippers love it when I call you Ma’am. 

KAREN: Okay, but you’re gonna have to say my name eventually. 

FRANK: Yes Ma’am. Now let’s get outta here.

FRANK sweeps KAREN into his arms. They stare into each other’s eyes.

KAREN: Goddammit Frank, just kiss me already.

They kiss.

Exeunt all.

END


End file.
